Chapter 44 – The "Swallow" Agent
"The Swallow Program? You mean that inhumane one?" William's eyes lit up the moment he heard the name.
He had never seen it firsthand in his previous life, but the name alone had carried a certain dark notoriety.
"Yes, boss."
Galina nodded, openly acknowledging her background.
"I've heard that before graduation, trainees are required to lose their virginity to their instructors. Is that true?"
William had heard countless rumors about the Swallows. This was the first time he'd ever met one in person. Curiosity was inevitable.
"Sir," Galina replied flatly, "I escaped before graduation precisely because I found those rules unacceptable."
Her expression remained cold and composed, but it was clear she held little affection for the Soviet system she had fled.
William simply nodded.
"Welcome to America. It's not exactly clean here either. But no one forces you to give up your body—unless you choose to."
Now that he understood her background, he no longer doubted her capability.
If a Swallow couldn't protect someone, then it would be difficult to find anyone who could.
In moments like this, William couldn't help but think:
Thank you, Cold War.
Thank you, Operation Paperclip.
Without the geopolitical chaos of the era, men like Sergei—and women like Galina—would have been far beyond the reach of someone like him.
"Galina," Sergei said formally, "the boss's safety is now entirely your responsibility."
"Mission acknowledged, sir!"
Her tone mirrored Sergei's—disciplined, precise, almost military to the bone.
"Boss, I'll take my leave."
With the handover complete, Sergei formally said goodbye.
William nodded.
Truthfully, Sergei felt deeply grateful.
He and the other veterans William had taken in were, by certain definitions, traitors. And yet here they were—earning steady pay, living stable lives.
That kind of second chance wasn't something they took lightly.
Before leaving, Sergei bowed deeply.
Galina, observing this, felt a flicker of surprise.
Everything she knew about William had come from Sergei—and it had all been neutral, factual information. No praise. No criticism.
But seeing this exchange told her something important:
William treated his people well.
Otherwise, Sergei would never have shown that kind of respect.
For the first time since defecting, Galina allowed herself to feel a small measure of anticipation for the future.
---
Once Sergei rejoined the team to oversee equipment relocation, William returned to his office.
He picked up the phone and dialed Steven Hirsch at Vivid Entertainment.
"Hello, could you connect me to Steve? This is William Blake."
Within Vivid, William was practically considered an insider now, so the receptionist transferred the call without hesitation.
In Hirsch's office, he was reviewing quarterly numbers when the phone rang.
He lifted the receiver.
"Mr. Blake is on the line. Shall I patch him through?" the receptionist asked.
"Go ahead."
A click.
"William? What's up?"
"Nothing major," William said calmly. "Just giving you a heads-up."
"The 18th Street guys are spreading word that no Valley girls are allowed to work at our studio."
He was simply relaying José's threat.
Since partnering with Vivid Entertainment, William had never intended to handle the 18th Street gang alone.
This was no longer just his problem.
It was business.
Compared to William's own resources, a company like Vivid Entertainment—a pure-blooded Valley operation—clearly knew far better how to deal with gangs.
If anything, they were a legal gang wrapped in corporate skin.
"18th Street?" Hirsch sounded completely unconcerned. "Got it. That's nothing. In the Valley, they don't get to call the shots.
Don't worry. It won't affect us.
By the way—are you free lately?"
Rather than answering directly, William asked, "What's this about?"
His relationship with Hirsch was solid for now. The man had no reason to sabotage him.
Compared to the crude methods of the 18th Street gang, people in the Valley industry at least maintained the façade of respectable businessmen.
"There's a charity gala coming up," Hirsch said. "Plenty of notable names from Los Angeles will be there.
You're my partner now. Building connections will only help you."
Setting aside profit, Hirsch genuinely admired William on a personal level. William's innovative approach to adult filmmaking felt refreshing—almost kindred.
"A charity gala?" William smiled. "That sounds perfect. When is it? I'll definitely attend.
Anything I should prepare?"
Opportunities like this didn't come often.
In America, networking wasn't just helpful—it was survival. Without the right connections, advancement eventually became impossible.
Up until now, William had been wondering how to expand his circle beyond Hollywood. The industry could only take him so far.
Having Hirsch open doors for him was a major breakthrough.
Hirsch chuckled at William's enthusiasm.
"Just bring a date. Dress properly.
I'm introducing you. If you embarrass yourself, you're embarrassing me."
After confirming the time and location, William hung up.
Leaning back in his chair, he stroked his chin thoughtfully.
Who should he bring?
Nicole Kidman?
Katya?
His options weren't many.
An event like this demanded someone sharp—not a decorative fool.
But bringing Nicole carried risks. She was clever—too clever. And if she realized this was a gateway into Los Angeles high society, who knew what moves she might make?
As the daughter of a wealthy Australian landowner, she understood social climbing.
William had to be cautious.
Right now, he and Nicole were merely partners in mutual benefit.
They were not allies.